This Small Part of Myself
by Deathly Noted
Summary: SeiferxSquall oneshot. Squall has been whoring himself out on the streets, but what happens when he runs into Seifer?


I charge the customer $10 for my services - just enough so that I can buy a bottle of water and a magazine on my way back to Garden. The water, because it keeps my throat from getting sore; the magazine, because Rinoa likes to read them. It's a way to keep going, that's all. I'm still in control.

**This Small Part of Myself**

I touch my hand to my face nervously as I walk, drop it to my side, touch my face again. Despite knowing that it will only draw more attention to the deep purple bruise streaking my cheek and the gash above my lip, I can't resist the compulsive urge to hide it from the eyes, if only for a moment. Of course, injuries aren't uncommon at a military academy - but it's not about that. Noticed or unnoticed, the wounds are still _there_, rotting and unclean, and it is even more shameful to know that the reason behind mine isn't so innocent as the assumptions those eyes will make at seeing them.

My filthy secret… even I don't understand it. I'm happy. I am. Rinoa loves me, and I love her. My friends, Ellone, everyone was always there; I just couldn't remember that I wasn't alone. And I'm not alone. But even so, there's something that drives me back to those littered alleys at night and keeps me waiting there until the raw morning hours… something that's still missing.

---

"How much for that cute little ass of yours?" the stranger whispers into my ear suddenly, but it doesn't startle me. Even the heaviness of his hand on my shoulder doesn't seem strange anymore. Turning to face him, I shrug it off with a, "Sorry, I only do blow-" but am stopped short by the face I encounter.

"Seifer…?" I choke.

Seifer looks confused for a moment, though the expression converts quickly to his usual smirk. "Seems you've finally found yourself a sense of humor, Leonhart. I thought you'd take a swing at my head, but it looks like you don't even have your 'blade with you." He pauses, staring at my hip for a moment before bringing his eyes back to mine. The confusion has returned to his features. "The hell are you doing in this shithole corner of Dollet, anyway? You can't be on a mission without your 'blade… and it ain't for no happy reunion, to be sure. A girl like you could really get hurt out here."

The insult almost rolls over me, but after gaping stupidly at him for so long, I finally regain my senses. My body stiffens defensively.

"I could ask the same of you," I say coolly.

"Okay, fair enough," Seifer replies, almost in good humor. "I live in this neighborhood. Now, how about you?"

"…It's none of your business." I turn to leave, but Seifer stops me with a firm grip on my arm. Evidently, attempting to brush him off was a bad idea, because now he's furious.

"Look, Leonhart! Don't give me that bullshit. I'm trying my best to be _civil_ here," he seethes, and as his fingernails dig further into my exposed flesh, I wince involuntarily. I glare down at my feet, hoping to Hyne he didn't notice, but to my shame his grip loosens slightly. "Can't you see I'm-"

"Still not selling, kid?"

Seifer falters at the words. My eyes widen to take in more of the ground. Please, anything but this…

"Well, I want to be the first when you're ready. That mouth of yours was so hot, I'll bet this is even better." He wraps a hand around the curve of my ass and squeezes it briefly. The footsteps that follow are eclipsed gradually by silence.

"You… were serious?" Seifer speaks without much presence. After long moments of suspension within myself, his voice reanimates my body. I force myself from the grasp of those pure fingers, fingers that haven't held onto the bodies of moaning men whose faces I can't now make out in my memories, whose names I never bothered to ask for. I run away as fast as my legs can carry me.

There are no tears. That's what I try to tell myself, but I can taste the salt in my mouth even as I move to form the words.

---

Suffocated by my sobs and realizing I can run no further, I collapse against a nearby wall. My hands sweep the surface, and I'm on my knees, a whore... I'm so pathetic.

"No more. _No more_." I slam my fist into the wall but feel nothing. Even the tears drip cold and dead from within me. I throw back my hand in search of another blow, the pain I can't feel, and in that motion the world ends. A hand closes around my wrist from behind.

"Fuck, Squall. Why do you have to run so fast?" Seifer pants. His steady breaths brush away gently the hair from my neck, and I'm exposed. I'm exposed in my skin, in my tears, in the words exchanged… but somehow, this warmth… it's cleansing.

"I can never keep up." Seifer's fingers slip from my wrist to my palm, and taking my hand, he pulls me to my feet.


End file.
